The Faded Road
The air in the processing hall of the Whitmore & Sons Textile Mill hung thick with the scent of wet wool and machine oil. It was a heavy, industrial perfume that coated the back of the throat and settled in the lungs. Elias Thorne stood by the inspection table, his hands resting on the cold steel edge. He wore the uniform of the Mill Guard, a deep navy blue that had faded to a greyish indigo...
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